


to life

by milo_the_fish



Series: desecration [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: First Meeting, Gen, Piglin TommyInnit, Piglin Wilbur Soot, Referenced Child Neglect, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milo_the_fish/pseuds/milo_the_fish
Summary: Wilbur has a new brother that he needs to meet.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: desecration [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2108478
Comments: 6
Kudos: 254
Collections: SBI Fics to Make Sebbie Cry





	to life

Wilbur wasn’t a stupid thirteen-year-old, or well, he liked to believe he wasn’t as stupid as Techno acts like he is. He knew why the waters run through pipes, he knew where his father and brother were, he knew the distinct sounds of the little clicking of the pins of the deadbolt on the door, and he knew that the now new and light footsteps now in the living room were of his new supposed sibling; a kid that Phil picked up off the street. His father hadn’t even given him a name for the kid, just the heads-up that someone new would be staying in the house with him, and maybe he was just skeptical for the true reason behind Phil’s new-found generosity. It’s not like his adopted father wasn’t a generous person, he kept food in the house and bought Wilbur a guitar once, even allowing the young boy to stay in the house while him and Techno were gone on their adventures in the End and beyond. It was just... _odd_? He thinks that’s the correct word that fits this.

He knows he is going to have to say hi, introduce himself and get the kid settled, since Phil isn’t here to do it for him. So, that’s what Wilbur does, putting down the rag he was using to dry a plate and walking towards the kitchen, trying to make his presence known to the kid. Wilbur didn’t really know what to expect, it could be a hybrid like him and Techno (although Phil doesn’t know that yet), or a human child, which would be troublesome for his young mind, knowing it would be harder for him to sympathize, to relate to, despite the fact he was dubbed a “ _sensitive”_ child. He peaks his head through the doorway, trying to find the supposed new addition to the household. There is a small boy hunched over, searching the room for any trick, and trap, and Wilbur pads towards him, “Hel-” and before he knows it, there is a sharp pain in his side and he is now on the floor, the child huffing above him.

It takes his brain a moment to realize what just happened, the kid got spooked and flipped him, and he knows that’s fair, he did sneak up on him, and he goes to apologize but the kid dashes from him and out the door faster than Wilbur has ever seen before. He takes a moment to catch his breath, trying to figure out what he needs to do from here, the kid obviously was scared, and now he sent his new baby brother back to the terrible conditions he was escaping from. Guilt is building in his stomach and he feels shame slowly sinking into his gut, Phil is going to be so disappointed in him, he can’t even properly introduce a new member into the family without fucking it up. He shifts to a sitting position, determination slowly flooding his veins, he needs to do this, for the unnamed sibling and his father, and he would ignore that the very small part of him that craved affection was jumping at the chance for someone to give him even a shred of their attention.

Wilbur is a small whirlwind as he grabs his jacket and an old hand-me-down from Techno, an umbrella, because he realized that the while it was warm and dry inside, it was absolutely wet and muddy outside. He slips on his boots and grabs an old sword that sits in the bottom of a chest in the kitchen, and he slips a smaller sheath on his hip and slides the blade in, and he clips a lantern on the leather band as well, which should help light the path in the surrounding woods and towards town.

He takes his key and places it in his jacket pocket and locks the front door on his way out, opening the umbrella under the little awning that is placed above their door. Wilbur steps out into the downpour and starts his trek towards the little commune that hopefully the kid had run to. There is thankfully no mobs on the trail as he runs through it, splashing washing up his pantlegs but paying little attention, more worried by the minute about the kid’s condition.

There isn’t anyone in town as he sprints in, which he finds the fear slowly leaking out of him, because at least with less people his new brother wasn’t going to get spooked too easily, if he was scared of one person a whole entire group of guards or other denizens would most likely spook him so thoroughly, he’d probably run even further, possibly towards the portal hub at the edge of town. He’d be dead before sunrise if he ended up in one of those worlds, and it broke his heart just to think about it. Wilbur starts to check every passing alleyway, hoping to find him, right as rain, hiding under some sort of make-shirt umbrella or shelter, that thought could possibly be his childish imagination slipping into his current anxiety-driven cynicism, trying to dilute it and bring some optimism to the current thunderstorm of swirling negative possibilities that swim by him.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been out at this point, just knowing that the rain has not let up and he is about the reach the last few buildings and there has been no sign of the kid, his heart is starting to ache, fear slowly turning his limbs cold feet numb and making his hands tremble. There is hope when he turns his head to the right, seeing a small form curled around itself, a small sack next to it drenched with rain. Wilbur steps forward, slowly, hoping that the kid doesn’t try to run again. It’s when he is about a feet or two away from the boy that he hears small cries, “Hello?” He asks, keeping his voice calm and smooth, “Are you okay? I’m sorry for scaring you.” The smaller figure flinches, trying to curl itself tighter around itself the head tilting in a way that the small beady black eyes can look at him. They’re not human, he can tell from the highlight given off from the warm light of the lantern. “Can I come any closer?” He tries, allowing the child some control over the situation. There is a shaking of the head and he stays where he is, umbrella held towards the sky and raindrops beating down on it. “I-” Wilbur starts, “I didn’t mean to scare you earlier, I promise that my dad didn’t bring you into our house because he was turning you in, or anything,” he continues, “I know you probably don’t trust me, but- I- here, let me do something, yeah?”

Wilbur hasn’t shifted his appearance in a long time, he’s only done it once since he and Techno were taken in by Phil, and it was in the privacy of his own room. He closes his eyes and deep-down calls to the other side of himself, knowing that the animalistic part of him was so intensely buried under shame and the anxiety of his time before Phil, and he had made a stupid pact with himself years ago to never allow himself to return to that appearance. It seems that he was willing to break that little deep promise to make a child feel safer, would he do it for anyone else? Or was this only reserved for the shaking child before him? He doesn’t know yet.

His head is different, and he knows that his true form is being shown to the child, and he opens his eyes and their small head is raised, looking at him with interest. “I’m just like you, yeah? You don’t need to be afraid,” he holds out the jacket towards the kid, “I’ll take care of you.” He sees the boy eye up the jacket suspiciously, his dark pupils looking at him for any sense of trickery, of any falsities, and he finds none, slowly unfurling his quivering body and taking the jacket. Wilbur smiles at him, and waits for him to pick up the bag, and he holds out his hand to the boy, “I’m Wilbur.”

The small piglin looks at him, studying his hand, which was now appearing as a hoof, “Tommy.” He takes Wilbur’s hand and shakes, quickly shuffling next to him underneath the umbrella. Wilbur lets out a little laugh at the disgruntled boy, pressing his sopping form into his side, “Tommy, what do you think of mushroom soup for dinner?” When he gets a grunt in response he just laughs, “Mushroom soup it is then.” They walk back to the house, a small quiet taking over them, and Wilbur feels that it could be comfortable given more time with Tommy. He thinks that maybe they’ll get along, he hopes that... that maybe he’ll finally have someone, a brother like all the books tell him exist. A brother he would die for, a brother he would live for, a brother who loves him as much as he loves him. It’s all he can hope for, beg for, as they walk towards the empty house that had turned into his prison. Maybe he wouldn’t be trapped anymore, with company that would be constant, with a companion to help him with whatever he needs.

Techno has been his brother since birth, but Wilbur has always felt second-rate to Phil, maybe he’ll finally have someone he will think of as his brother, and not just a growing stranger. Maybe Wilbur will finally have someone he considers family, someone he considers as a friend. “Let’s get you into a bath, yeah?” He states, opening the door with his key and allowing Tommy to go in first. “I have some clothes that may be small enough for you, but we can figure it out if they’re too big,” he hears a grunt as they kick off their shoes and trod through the house, “You can shift whenever you want, as well, Tommy. I like to appear human but do whatever you feel comfortable with, I will not judge you for whichever form you choose,” he stops in front of the bathroom, opening the door and allowing Tommy to explore the room on his own, “I’ll put the soup on, really quickly and help you with the faucet.”

He gets out a pot, finding the ingredients quickly and throwing them in with the bone broth and turning on the burner. Wilbur leaves the kitchen and goes back into the bathroom, finding Tommy sitting and playing with a bar of soap, he snickers, “Having fun?” The boy drops it, and his face heats up, the human features back on his head, and floppy dirty blond hair. “It’s okay, now let’s get you clean, yeah?” There is an astonished expression on the little boy, and Wilbur just gives him a kind smile, he turns the nods on the faucet and puts his hand under the water, warmth finally cascading down after a few minutes. “There we go,” he says and leaves the water to pool in the giant basin, turning to the boy and seeing him playing with the soap again. Somehow he’s already under Wilbur’s skin, because a small bit of affection bleeds into his heart at the sight of him. “Do you wanna check up on the soup with me while the tub fills?” Wilbur asks, shifting to his feet and looking at the boy on the floor. He holds out his hand again, if Tommy chooses to come with him, and he does, grabbing Wilbur’s hand and following him into the kitchen.

The soup is almost done, and Wilbur is happy that Tommy seems excited, slowly opening up, albeit they’ve known each other for only minutes. “You can have as much as you want, when it’s done,” he assures, “You’re a growing little gremlin.” He gets a small kick in the shin, but he can hear Tommy giggling quietly to himself, and he knows that the kid at least found it funny. They check in on the water in the bathroom and it’s a good level, so Wilbur shuts off the faucets. “Do you want me to help you, or do you want to do it on your own?” He lets the boy decide, knowing that bathing is a private thing, and Tommy doesn’t fully trust him yet even if he’s being affectionate. Tommy points at himself and Wilbur nods, “Alright, yell if you need anything, okay? I’ll leave the clothes outside the door and there’ll be soup for you when you’re done.” He pats the kid’s shoulder and shuts the door behind him.

He rifles through some of the chests in their storage closet and finds some of his old shirts and pants and folds them nicely in front of the bathroom door and goes into the kitchen once more, and turns down the burner, the soup bubbling less. After a few minutes there is a scuffling sound from the bathroom and Wilbur quickly goes to check up on him but he sees the clothes gone and decides it must be because of that, “You okay in there?” he asks, getting only a slight grunt in reply. “Alright, come out when you’re ready, I’ll help you get some soup.”

Wilbur pours himself some soup, blowing on it in hopes it would cool down quicker, and trying to distract himself from the growing anxiety about Tommy getting hurt. The door down the hall opens and Wilbur places his bowl on the counter and peeks his head into the hallway, smiling at the boy as he admires some of the paintings on the wall. “You hungry, bud?” He asks and gets a surprised whine instead. “Let’s get some food into you, yeah?” The boy nods and scampers over to him. Tommy ends up wanting a lot of soup, which Wilbur is fine giving him, and allowing him to slurp it from the bowl from his seat on the counter, and after a while Tommy starts to look content, and Wilbur feels that warm affection thrumming through his chest again. His new brother beams at him and he can’t help but grin back, their new bond forming under baggy clothes and warm food, ignoring the absence of his father and brother, because maybe Tommy will be everything he needs in life, his own brother, his best friend, his companion to the end. He’s never had that, not even in Techno, and he is really excited to see the future, if Tommy is by his side. _To our new life_ , he smiles to himself, _to my new baby brother_ , he smiles at Tommy, _to a warmth I cannot explain_ , he takes a spoonful of soup into his mouth and swallows. _L’Chaim._

**Author's Note:**

> I SPEEDRAN THIS ONESHOT HOLY SHIT I WROTE THIS ALL TODAY OH GOD I’M SO SORRY IF THIS SUCKS
> 
> my new twitter :) 


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